


The Ring

by MorinoAthame



Series: Ivarr Fix-It AU [2]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Female Eivor (Assassin's Creed), Light Angst, Smut, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:41:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27998418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorinoAthame/pseuds/MorinoAthame
Summary: Eivor has word from Basim to meet in Cent. Ivarr has no intentions to be left behind when she heads out to find her brother. Though he does seem to be up to something beyond aggravating Dag.
Relationships: Eivor/Ivarr Ragnarsson
Series: Ivarr Fix-It AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2050650
Comments: 18
Kudos: 104





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to go ahead and break this into chapters so I could get some of it out to everyone. It's a bit short, I will admit. I hope you enjoy. :)

When they returned to Ravensthorpe from Sciropescire, Eivor hadn’t been sure how things would be with Ivarr joining the settlement. She wasn’t terribly worried, for all she did for her people she deserved this one small thing. But there would still be some acclimating to do, for the clan and for her and Ivarr. 

Ivarr was familiar enough with the settlement and the people that she left him to his own devices while she went to check in with Randvi. “Ceolbert is ealdorman and we can count Sciropescire as an ally,” she said, announcing her presence to the preoccupied woman. 

Randvi smiled as she turned from where she was writing. “That is good to hear. Ceolbert will do well in his new title.” She walked over to the alliance table and leaned her hip against it. “Things have been quiet while you were away, though Dag is growing restless that Sigurd is still gone.” 

“Has there been word from Basim?” Eivor was equally parts eager to get moving on finding her brother and to take a break for a day or two. 

“He’s asked for you to meet him in Cent.” She answered. “He has taken shelter at Saint Hadrian’s Priory.” 

“I will go as soon as I can.” Eivor gave a nod. She wished to check in with everyone in the settlement and get Ivarr settled; though she doubted he’d remain behind once she left. He would either head for Repton, return to Ceolbert, or follow her. As she could use all the help she could get to find her brother, she hoped for the last. 

Leaving the room, she felt a weight settle on her shoulders to see Dag waiting on her. They had not gotten on since Sigurd had left for Ledecestrescire some months before. Though she wondered if they’d ever really gotten on at all, or if Sigurd had been some sort of tie that bound them together and no friendship had ever existed between them. She also wondered if Dag had a stiff cock for her brother. 

“Dag, Basim has brought word of Sigurd’s location. We are leaving in a day’s time.” She said as she walked up to him. 

The look on his face could be described as a sneer. “Well done, Eivor. After so long, it finally occurs to you to search for our jarl. I applaud your halfhearted effort. But I will not be joining you.” His tone was derisive, and his body language was almost threatening. He was like a cornered bear, and she was what stood between him and freedom. 

“Dag. This is no joke. You will be on the ship.” She commanded him. He was one of her raiders, they all depended on him. He couldn’t just abandon them, abandon  _ Sigurd _ like that.

He scoffed and shifted his weight on his feet. “Someone needs to stay home and direct the affairs of the settlement. As you seem to shun this place as often as possible, it must fall to me.” Which was rich, when it fell to Randvi, and they both knew it. Perhaps he had no use for her  _ or _ Randvi? Was it because they were women?

“Oh, let the big baby stay,” Ivarr’s voice cut in. She glanced over to see him leaning a hip against the end of one long table. 

Dag glared at Ivarr hot enough to set him alight. “Stay out of this, Ragnarsson. It does not concern you.” 

Ivarr, arms crossed, shrugged and didn’t comment further. Though the look on his face spoke that he was biding his time, not acquiescing. 

“If you wish to stay, so be it.” She would ask Ivarr to take Dag’s place, though how a man who led armies would take being a simple raider she was not sure. “But when Sigurd’s back among us, we will see what status you have among the raiders.”

“Say whatever makes you feel superior, Eivor. I know Sigurd will understand my decision.” 

“To abandon him and his sister. Yes. He’ll understand completely,” Ivarr spoke up casually, reaching down to scratch Mouse on the head. “It sounds to me you are a coward.” He stood up and walked over to them. “Or, you hope she fails and intend to use this time to turn the clan against her so that you become jarl yourself.” He tucked his hands behind his back and leaned in close, eyes on Dag’s. “Coward or traitor, which is it?” He asked, teeth bared dangerously. 

Dag puffed up and flushed with anger, hand dropping to his axe. Eivor caught his wrist. “Dag, don’t. Ivarr, please. Let me handle this.” 

The Dane stared Dag down, a smug smirk on his face. “I think it’s coward. You’ve not got the sense for anything else.” He stepped away. “You either stop this now, Eivor, or you will regret it later.” Ivarr warned her before walking off. He gave a little whistle and Mouse trotted after him. 

Eivor watched him go then looked back to Dag. She considered him a moment. “Do you doubt me so completely that you will not raise an axe to save your jarl?” 

“A fine way of putting it, Wolf-Kissed.” He said cryptically before shaking his head and walking away. She got the sense he’d had more to say, but for whatever reason he’d thought better of it. Hopefully, he’d change his mind before they left, but he seemed set on staying behind. 

With a sigh, Eivor headed to her room. Ivarr was sitting on the bench at the end of her bed scratching Mouse’s belly. “I think you’ve stolen my wolf,” she commented, removing her weapons and laying them aside. 

“He’s more dog than wolf.” Ivarr responded, giving the canine a pat and sending it on its way. He watched her as she removed her armor. “I understand you’re going after your brother?” He crossed his arms. 

She put the armor on its rack. “Basim is waiting in Cent. I’m to meet him at Saint Hadrian’s Priory.” She turned to him, undoing her hair. 

For a moment, he just stared at her hands then he seemed to realize she was staring back and met her eyes. “Do you trust this man, Basim?” 

She frowned in thought. “Until what happened in Oxenefordscire, I would have tentatively said yes because Sigurd trusts him. Now…” She sighed and shook her head. “He does seem to genuinely wish to find Sigurd, but to what end I know not. Regardless, he is the only lead I have. I must follow it.” 

“Not alone.” 

She tilted her head and gave a faint smile. “Following in my shadow doesn’t really suit one of Ragnar’s sons.” 

“I say it suits this one just fine. Where you lead, often slaughter follows. So long as I get to wet my blade on Saxon blood, I care little about who’s bossing who around.” 

She chuckled. She hadn’t thought of it like that, but that did sound just like him. “You are right. I do seem to always find trouble.” 

“One of your better qualities.” He grinned at her, and she laughed. 

She walked over to a small crate and picked up some clothes. “I intend to bathe. You can rest here… or join me.” She smiled. 

“You naked and wet?” He stood up and stretched, grin splitting his face. “After you, Wolf-Kissed.” 

***

It was hours later, after they’d turned in for the evening, that she woke to an empty bed. Curious, she sat up and glanced around. Ivarr was free to go where he pleased whenever he liked, but from her experience he didn’t get up in the middle of the night. She spotted him sitting not far away dressed only in his pants and scratching a quill across some parchment. Rolling onto her side, she propped herself on her elbow and watched him. 

Several minutes passed before he glanced up, finally noticing the scrutiny. “I hate writing,” he commented. “My brothers forced me to learn. It takes so long.” He set the quill aside after signing his name on the bottom. “But it gets the job done.” 

“A letter to Ubba?” She guessed. 

“Smart girl.” He checked to see if it was dry then rolled it up and tied it with a strip of leather. “I’ll send it out in the morning.” He set it aside and stood. He took the two steps to the bed and dropped his pants before sliding back in beside her under the furs.

Eivor easily pressed herself up against him, wrapping an arm over his side. “We should get more sleep.” She pressed a kiss under his jaw, touch lingering. 

“I’m awake now.” He pulled her over him to straddle his waist. “You’ll have to wear me out again.” His smirk was equal parts smug and playful.

She chuckled and reached behind herself to stroke his cock. “Like this?” She shifted back, trapping the cock against her. It hardened in her hand, and she gave him a little smirk of her own.

“Don’t tease me, Eivor.” He growled, reaching for her hips. 

She rose up and let his cock fall from her grip to lie against his belly. “I like teasing you.” She sat back down, sliding her slit along the length of him. She only got to thrust her hips a few times before he was flipping them over and sinking himself inside of her. 

“Next time,” he said, setting a hard pace. He buried his face into her neck, mouthing along the skin. 

Eivor raked her nails over his shoulders and rode it out. They  _ did _ need to get some more rest before they left the next morning. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t have rather taken her time with him. 

He found his release before her, but he didn’t leave her unsatisfied. He rode his orgasm out, stroking her clit until she, too, reached climax. Then he kissed her and rolled back to her side. 

For a moment, they were still and quiet as their blood and breathing calmed. “Can you sleep now?” She eventually asked as she tucked up against him again. 

“Hmmm. I could have slept before.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. 

She slapped him on the stomach. “Arse.” 

“Don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy yourself.” His smirk was easily heard in his voice. 

She snorted. “I begin to think you only want me for the sex,” she muttered into his shoulder. 

“You’re too much trouble for that to be true.” He quipped then cursed when she punched him in the side. “Woman…” 

“Shut up and sleep, Ivarr.” She kissed his jaw again. 

He grumbled but settled down, holding her as he closed his eyes to sleep. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for the Cent arc.
> 
> Also, I highly recommend ESO's Assassin Creed Valhalla Walkthrough Gameplay videos over on YT. They've been invaluable for dialogue, and for letting me just rewatch certain scenes with certain characters.

Eivor woke again a few more hours later. The sun was up and again Ivarr was gone. Stretching, she climbed from bed and pulled on her clothes and armor. After attaching her weapons as well, she went in search of food before going to find her crew. Seeing Dag amongst them was a shock, and she stared at him for a moment.

Dag just glared at her antagonistically.

Shaking her head, she told everyone what was going on, where they were going, and to ready themselves quickly. She then went to find her lover. She tried the places she’d expect, the barracks and longhouse, even the brewery. It was only chance that she heard his voice coming from the trader’s as she passed by. Curious, she looked in to see what he was doing.

“Good morning, Eivor,” Yanli greeted with a smile; which caused Ivarr to jerk around to face her. His reaction was suspicious simply because he’d had one at all. She might have expected a glance but not for him to act like a small boy caught with his father’s axe.

“Hej, Yanli.” She nodded to the shop keeper then focused on Ivarr. “What are you doing?” She tilted her head and took a step closer.

“Nothing,” was his quick answer.

“Hmmm. That explains why you’re in here acting like a skittish hare.” When he puffed up, she smirked and took another step closer. 

He glowered at her, insulted. “I’ve never been skittish a day in my life. I’m doing nothing that needs to concern you.”

She had a feeling it should concern her when he was acting strange, but she shrugged. “As you like. We’re leaving before the sun rises much higher. Whatever doesn’t concern me needs to be finished or you’ll be left behind.”

“Is that great oaf coming, or is he the coward I believe him to be?” He asked, turning back to Yanli and thrusting silver at her before tucking something into a pouch Eivor knew he kept on his belt.

“He was with the others. I assume he intends to come.” She stepped back to let him leave the shop, following after him. “Dag is not a bad person, Ivarr.”

He snorted. “His lack of respect is offensive.”

“He is worried for my brother. I cannot fault him, even if I feel he needs knocked upside the head with a hammer.” She had known Dag forever. He was rough around the edges, but he was loyal to Sigurd, to a fault.

“You’re too soft on him. If he respected your brother as much as he says, he’d respect you because your brother put you in charge. This is jealousy.” Ivarr stopped near Reda’s tent and turned to her. “Make him listen to you, or you’re going to regret it.”

“What more can I do? I’ll speak to Sigurd when he’s back among us.”

“He’s been gone a long time. He might not be the same man anymore. I’ve broken men as stout as your brother in less time.”

She had tried not to think about it. Sigurd as anything but his strong confident self was unimaginable, but Eivor knew it was a possibility. She feared all the ways he could be different. “Changed or not, he’s Sigurd. I will stand by him.”

Ivarr gave a nod and continued on to the dock. He went to wait by the longship while Eivor gathered the crew. They were all ready to go, so it was only a matter of everyone getting boarded and settled in. Eivor was surprised when Ivarr chose the opposite end of the ship to sit, but she didn’t question him. It really didn’t matter where he sat, and this way there hopefully wouldn’t be any contention between him and Dag. 

The trip to Cent was mostly uneventful. The one issue they had was when Dag was telling one of his tales. Ivarr butted in every few minutes with commentary and criticism; so much for no contention. The crew shifted nervously and found the scenery very interesting, save Bragi, Birna, and Bjorn. Bragi just shook his head and ignored them as he steered the ship. Birna found it very amusing judging by the grin she’d had on her face the entire time, her shoulders shaking each time Ivarr opened his mouth. Bjorn seemed equally resigned and like he’d like to slam their skulls together. 

Eivor was of the latter category herself. After a moment of brief quiet as they passed an army outpost along the water, she’d ordered Bragi to sing to put an end to the cock measuring. By that point she’d been very happy they were at opposite ends of the ship or axes may have been drawn. Though the way Birna and Ivarr tucked their heads together in the following miles was of some concern, especially the way they’d glance toward the front of the ship, at her or Dag she wasn’t sure. 

When they made landfall, she left her new lieutenant in charge. A slight to Dag perhaps but she’d deal with the consequences of that later. Ivarr, to no surprise, insisted on following her. At least he couldn’t kill Dag while she was away, and she’d have asked him to come along anyway.

Heading south, it took some time to trek in land to the location Basim had indicated in his message. Ivarr was oddly quiet, and she found it as concerning as his behavior with Birna on the ship. “Everything alright, Ivarr?”

“Wonderful,” he answered dryly. “We couldn’t have found some fucking horses?” 

“Your old bones not able to handle a long walk through the countryside?” She jested, laughing when he caught her arm and pressed her up into a tree. In some ways, he was as predictable as he wasn’t. 

“I can keep up with you just fine, Wolf-Kissed.” He smirked at her. “I recall I often wear you out.” 

She met his eyes and lifted her brows with a smile. “I think your mind might be fading too, old man.” He growled at her, leaning closer. She put a hand over his mouth and pushed him back with it. “You’re not distracting me. We have to meet Basim.”

He grunted and stared at her a moment before he shifted his head and bit her then dodged backwards when she swung at him with her other fist. “Looks like you’re the one that’s slow.” He grinned at her.

“You’re ridiculous.” She informed him before starting back along the path they were following through the woods. 

“I’m not the one following a game trail _on foot_ when we could have taken horses along the main road. It would have been faster.” He fell into step behind her again. “There’s too much sneaking around. You’re a _drengr_ , Eivor.” 

“I see no need to announce our presence to Aelfred’s army just yet. Not when Fulke could run off with Sigurd at the first hint of our presence.” 

He grunted but didn’t argue further. They both knew she was right. 

It took some time for them to get to the priory, but when they finally did, it wasn’t hard to spot Basim amongst the Christians. As they approached, they could hear him and one of the men having a debate.

“What I mean to say is, faith is paramount. Yes. For without it, Christ’s sacrifice means nothing.” 

Basim regarded the man. “He died to save us, did he not?” He countered. “From the original sin of Adam and Eve? Yet evil persists.” 

“Yes, evil persists. Because he gave us free will.” The priest readily responded. Eivor didn’t understand these Christians and their talking in circles, they never seemed to have a straight answer for anything, and when they did, there were always ways in their own faith to contradict them. 

But it seemed that Basim was enjoying himself. “Does a newborn babe slain by a despot have free will?” 

“Yes,” he answered quickly, perhaps before even realizing what had been asked, “no,” he corrected, “I mean… that is too simplistic.” 

“Or,” Basim reasoned as he shifted his weight, a cat toying with its meal, “the priest whose heart is torn from his chest by the wolf? Judas, who was predestined to betray the Nazarene?” He pressed, no doubt sensing he’d backed the other man into a corner. He seemed rather proud of himself in a subtle way. 

Eivor shook her head as she watched one of the other priests step forward and usher the first out over some perceived blasphemy. The way they bickered about the minutiae of their religion was a failing she was surprised hadn’t been their undoing. 

“Making new friends?” She asked as she and Ivarr approached Basim. 

Basim glanced at Ivarr for a moment then looked to Eivor. “A person’s tongue gives you a taste of their heart, Eivor. And such information is often useful.” 

“And how do these sallow Christians taste?” 

“It was only a figure of speech, Eivor. And I have tired of it already.” He gave a dismissive movement of his hand. 

Eivor considered him. There was a chill between them that she could feel, and she knew that it was in large part her own making. “Is this how it must be between us?” She asked. Though she’d not known him long, she did miss the friend she’d begun to have in him back in Norway and in their time first settling Ravensthorpe.

“Of course not. I’m grateful that you have come.” He looked again to Ivarr. “I must admit, I expected you to be alone.” 

She didn’t dwell on Ivarr’s presence, he was there and that was that. “What happened in Mercia still puzzles me. Fulke saw something in Sigurd. A power, a legacy. What is it she wants?” Eivor didn’t like not knowing so much about the motives of the woman in question. How was she supposed to find her and put an end to her without a deeper knowledge of what was going on?

“Her motives are difficult to fathom. But that can come later. Let’s find your brother first.” The answer was unhelpful, to say the least, and a clear redirection.

“You have to beat her to get him back. How can it come later?” Ivarr asked what Eivor was thinking. 

“We don’t have to beat her for now, just find her.” Basim persisted.

“To find her, to find him, you have to understand her. Finding her doesn’t mean finding him. He could be kept anywhere. It would be easy enough to hide him in one place and stay in another.” Ivarr pointed out. Eivor had told him what she could of Fulke, and Ivarr had faced many foes. His input could be invaluable. 

Basim frowned at him. “We know she wants something from him. To get that, she must be with him.” 

“Someone must be. It doesn’t have to be her. If I take a prisoner that I know someone wants back, I stick them in a hole and go about my business elsewhere. As much as I like to cut the answers out myself, that doesn’t mean I can’t have someone else do the work while I play cat and mouse.” 

Eivor hadn’t even considered that. She frowned and crossed her arms. It made sense, but was Fulke the type of person to just hand Sigurd off? Or was she too invested in being hands on. The woman was mad, it was hard to predict her. Ivarr was mad, too, in his own way, but that didn’t mean they would do things the same. Still, like she’d figured, he did have a perspective to give that they needed to consider. 

“I think it is best to work under the assumption they are together. She’s as much a zealot as a heretic. There are few she could trust. The last that we know of is dead. We must find her, and Sigurd, then worry about finding a way to get him from her.” Basim spoke frankly, his attention on Eivor and not Ivarr. 

She gave a nod. “If we do this, you’ll earn the right to call me friend ten-thousand fold.” And she meant it. Getting Sigurd back meant everything. “What is your plan?” 

Basim made a vague gesture to indicate the area around them. “We are deep in their god’s heartland, a heathen and a heretic. To hunt Fulke, we’ll need a Christian snare.” 

She could see some wisdom to that, but there was also a concern. “Fulke is hardly a saint herself. These Christians abhor her strange ideas.” 

Basim gave a nod. “True. But unlike us, she can carry herself as one of them. She won’t hide from everyone, not with a prisoner in tow.” 

Eivor glanced at Ivarr, but he only looked back with no advice to give. “So where to begin?” She asked Basim. It seemed they’d have to play this by his machinations until they had more information.

“I’ve made a friend.” Basim began, ignoring Ivarr’s derisive snort. “Abbot Cynebert. Full of pious fire, but with ambition that far outweighs his wit.” 

Eivor nudged Ivarr when he opened his mouth to comment. “And what does your friend Cynebert know?” 

Basim eyed Ivarr critically for a moment. “Come,” he said as he turned to Eivor again, “I will introduce you. And we’ll hear the full tale together. Though perhaps…” 

“He comes with me or we leave him to play with the Christians, take your choice.” Eivor gave Basim an innocent smile. They both knew why the latter was a terrible idea.

He stared at her a moment then sighed. “Very well. This way.” He turned and began to lead them through the priory’s courtyard. 

Eivor easily fell in behind him, Ivarr at her side. “Have you found some peace in your time alone, Basim?” 

“I am always at peace. And never alone.” He answered as they walked easily through the people milling about here and there. “I move among the people of the world with great joy. I watch them, study them, learn from them at all times. This is our duty, the HIdden One’s calling.” 

“You know, for the first time since we’ve met you sound more like your apprentice than yourself.” 

“Hm. Surely Hytham sounds like me… if I have taught him well.” 

She supposed that was true. “Your creed and your tenets, you mean?” 

“That’s right. And our sense of… how should I say… deep responsibility to the betterment of mankind.” 

“That’s quite an ambition,” she began. 

“It’s horse shit,” Ivarr muttered, but Eivor ignored him, she had more on her mind. It wasn’t just Fulke that seemed to have an interest in her brother. 

“But it doesn’t explain what you see in Sigurd. My brother is not so generous.” Their clan and their people, that was what mattered. The rest of mankind was just a means to that end. 

“Ah, but your brother is… someone special. Important. And I want him to see that. I hope to show it to him.” Basim said as they started up a small rise. 

Ivarr again snorted and looked at Eivor with an expression that clearly stated how he felt about Basim and what he was saying. “Seems an awful lot of people have a stiff cock for the great pole. I just don’t get it.” 

“I love my brother, he is my brother and my jarl, but I am not sure I understand what everyone else wants with him, either.” She admitted. There were still so many questions, and Basim was being cagey at best about a fair amount of them. 

“Abbot Cynebert. This is the Norse I spoke of,” Basim’s voice cut into anything else they might have said as he motioned toward Eivor from where he stood beside an older portly man. These Christian priests all seemed rather fat while the Christian people were scraping by, many not but skin and bone. It rubbed Eivor the wrong way. 

“Ah, yes, and quite a fearsome one at that. She and her friend.” The abbot gave both of them a brief once over. 

“Basim says you know the paladin, Fulke.” Eivor jumped straight to the point. 

“Indeed. The Lady Fulke passed this way not more than a month ago. We talked, we drank. A very pleasant woman.” 

Eivor barely refrained from snarling at the very idea she was pleasant. She did know how deceptive Fulke could be, and Basim believed they needed this man’s help. “And where is she…” She started to ask. 

“Eivor will be your axe, abbot. Whether to fell a tree or hew the limbs from an enemy.” Basim cut in. 

She shared a look with Ivarr, who crossed his arms and frowned. With a frown of her own, she looked to Basim. “What have you promised him?” She didn’t like feeling as though she were nothing but a piece in some game. 

“O, just a trifle, Eivor.” Abbot Cynebert answered for the assassin. And she didn’t like how familiar he suddenly sounded with her. “A little problem I believe you can help me with.” 

Again she shared a look with Ivarr. She wasn’t sure which of them was the closest to knocking the man about to get the answers they wanted and be done with it. Why did they all insist on beating around the bush? “Speak your terms plainly, abbot. I will decide if the bargain is worth my time.” 

“Yes. I grow bored with all this talking.” Ivarr’s hand fell to land on his dagger. 

“Ah! Your wolves show their teeth, Basim.” The abbot sounded more delighted than frightened. If Ivarr went for his dagger, she wasn’t going to stop him so long as he left the man with enough breath to point them to Fulke. 

“Let’s cut to the point. What favor would you ask in exchange for Fulke?” Eivor demanded.

“Some weeks ago, our ealdorman in Cent was called to God. A terrible loss. King Aelfred has chosen his replacement, but he’s not yet announced the name. I must know it… now.” 

Eivor frowned. “All of Cent will see soon enough which thegn he has chosen. Why not wait?” What difference was a little time going to make? She didn’t understand why _this_ was what the abbot needed help with. 

“I want… early access. To woo him, before his exalted position is made public and every fool is at his door.” 

Ambitious, Basim had said. No wit. So, here she was to be the muscle and backbone that he also lacked. “Who else knows the chosen man?” 

“The king’s emissary.” He answered, which wasn’t really an answer. A king would have more than one. Technically anyone that carried his word would be an emissary. “Sent with a letter of congratulations to the new ealdorman,” he continued. “Intercept him and bring me the news. When I know the thegn’s name, we’ll discuss how I might win his favor.” 

Eivor thought this was a waste of time. She was sick of these games the Saxons and Christians played. She was tempted to leave this task to Ivarr and hunt for Fulke herself. “Your king will not be happy, his Church meddling in his politics,” she observed, though she knew it was futile to hope the man might drop it and just give them the paladin’s location.

“Does this not delight you, Eivor?” Basim spoke up. “A chance to defy Aelfred?” He didn’t really think she put that much thought into Aelfred. He was a hindrance, a nuisance, but at present not much more. Let others face that foe until they had need of her.

“I am God’s humble shepherd, sent to protect his lambs. If Cent’s new ealdorman is a wolf, I would blunt his claws.” 

“ _You_ would do nothing but have others dirty their hands for you.” Ivarr sneered. “You’re nothing but dross, and worse a coward.”

The abbot puffed up but bit his tongue in the face of two drengr. Either because he had some sense or because he was a coward, as Ivarr pointed out. “If you do not want Fulke…” 

“Do not toy with me, abbot. I am the only thing between you and my friend’s blade.” Eivor stared him down. 

“Eivor, see sense.” Basim tried. “We need to play this out…” 

“Yes, play. That seems to be your intent. To play with the Christians. I do not care how you spend your time, Basim, but I will have my brother. I thought, on this, we were of like mind.” 

Basim sighed. “We are. But I think we should do this carefully. In helping the abbot we might weaken Aelfred’s army, and by extension Fulke.” 

He had a point, as much as she was loath to admit it. She just wanted this done. “Very well. This emissary, how will I find him?” 

Ivarr growled and paced away from them. 

The abbot tracked Ivarr’s movement for a moment then looked back to her, taking a calming breath. “Tonbridge Monastery sent word that the king’s men always pass a few nights in their hospitality. Begin there.” 

“I’ll get the ealdorman’s name, you find Fulke.” 

“All in good time.” He responded, as though nothing of the last moments had transpired. He was either stupid or had some trick left to play. “Now, if we are done, I have business up the south coast. Folcanstan has the best fish in Wessex.” 

“Then I will find you there when the ealdorman’s name is mine.” She was not displeased to watch him walk away. 

“Cynebert is ambitious but well connected. We will not find Fulke without him.” Basim told her. 

“I suppose we’ll see. What will you do?” 

“I am not done playing with these Christians yet, you were right,” he admitted. “Trust me, Eivor. Do not let your… liaison with the Dane distract you from what is important here.” 

She frowned at him. “Ivarr wants to help me find Sigurd.” 

“Does he?” Basim asked skeptically. “I suppose we’ll see,” he said, repeating her own words back at her. “I will see you in Folcanstan.” He nodded to her and shook her hand before he walked away. 

Eivor sighed and looked out over the countryside. She felt Ivarr come up behind her. “Will you return to the ship and let the others know to travel to Folcanstan?” She asked as she turned to face him. 

He didn’t look pleased. “I do not understand why you play their games.” 

“Because getting Sigurd back is all that matters.” 

He shook his head. “You go to great lengths to return your brother to a title that should be yours.” 

“I don’t care about being jarl. I care about Sigurd, about my people. I do what I must, for all of them.”

“What is best for them, is for you to continue to do what you’ve done so far. When people think of your clan, it will always be your face they see. You are the one they will look to, to uphold the oaths you’ve taken. You are the one they trust.”

“I have made it clear that I represent my clan, as drengr, no more.”

“You’re a fool!” He tossed his hands up before they fell to rest on his hips.

That stung more than she would have expected it to and she looked away from him. “I will find Sigurd with or without your help. Return to Repton or wherever suits you. I cannot delay here any longer.” When he said nothing, she walked away. Maybe Basim had been right; Ivarr didn’t seem to care if she found Sigurd. He made it sound like they shouldn’t. He had brothers, couldn’t he understand?

Whatever the case, she would find this emissary then return to her crew and go to Folcanstan. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter didn't want to play nice, and I think I might have deviated from the initial short fluffy story plan I had. Little bit of angst sneaked itself in there at the end, too.


End file.
